


Spectrums, Rainbows, and Pharaohs, Oh My

by PuzlDragon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: ADD/ADHD, ADHD Jounouchi Katsuya|Joey Wheeler, ADHD Mutou Yuugi, Autism, Autistic Mutou Yuugi, Autistic Yami Yuugi|Atem, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Gay, M/M, Multi, Neurodiversity, Not Really ABA Therapy But Atem Will Have Gone Through Historically Similar?, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzlDragon/pseuds/PuzlDragon
Summary: Mutou Yuugi never fit in. Being a hyper, shy, autistic kid does that. Behind in his studies, and unable to read people, he doesn't feel like he fit in. Even with friends.Jounouchi Katsuya never fit in. He was unable to pay attention to studies. He could only apply himself to things that were fast-paced. Interesting. He was always left feeling pretty stupid. But at least he was a loyal fool.Atem is a boy-king ressurected from the past. When young, he had intense coaching to seem presentable. He still can never forget how little he felt like a normal person, much less the person he was meant to be.The story of three close friends becoming somthing else. It's also a story of discovering oneself, and healing.---The one where they are queer, poly, and neurodivergent because the author projects onto characters
Relationships: Atem & Kaiba Seto, Atem/Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Atem/Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Mutou Yuugi, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Mutou Yuugi, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Yami Yuugi, Kaiba Seto & Yami Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Spectrums, Rainbows, and Pharaohs, Oh My

**Author's Note:**

> Am i self-projecting? Yes. Do I care? nOPE

It starts when Atem gets back. Sort of. He's human again. Whole. A spirit with a body, a person alive. A person with a future.

Atem hasn't had a real future for over three thousand years.

He stands there by the gaping hole in the earth. Collapsed stone upon stone, the unforgiving patient slopes of sand lying upon the caved in shrine. The shrine where he battled to end it. The shrine where he was freed from the puzzle that trapped his soul for millennia. The puzzle that had engulfed him in entirety. The puzzle he was freed from in entireity. The twist none of them expected.

Jounouchi had reacted upon instinct, to used to adrenaline to let the shock cause Yuugi, and Atem to be crushed under stone. Had tossed the both of them over his shoulders like punk-themed sacks. The sand still turns in the air. Eveyone is gasping. They are talking. The sun scorches upon them. It is a sweltering heat.

Atem forgot heat. He forgot everything. Even memories could not compare to new sensations. His body is on fire. It is screaming. He is a river channel. He has flooded full of sensations. Atem collapses to the ground. Sand grits into his skin. Each grain rolls. Sticks to his skin. He stares at the shrine.

He is unsure if he has been given something, or had something taken away.

Then a loud roaring disrupts everything. Sand flies everywhere, little sharp grains stabbing at his flesh. Whinds try to bowl them over. Atem feels like a modern washing machine. He feels buffeted at all sides in the whirlwind. He looks up.

A dragon descends. Kind of.

The Kaiba brothers descend from their jet to Join them. Kaiba is draped in his white coat. It sways around him. Mokuba rushes after him. His little shoes make twice as many crunches in the shifting sand as he tramples after his brother. Atem looks at him. His vivid bright stripes of his clothes swirl in Atem's eyes like bright lights. It gives him a headache. He looks back to Kaiba. Somehow, the soft white swaying in artifical breeze comforts him.

Kaiba looks around at them. He glances at the loud group. He sneers. His piercing eyes land on the dishevled form of Atem. He is scraped, he is scratched, his is bruised. He feels dizzy, and exhauseted. The state he was in upon being sealed has followed him to the end of the heavy burden. The shadows of war enshroud him even now, millennia later. He is tarnished. Kaiba's eyes travel down Atem's frame.The wounds, the tatters of his robe, his tunic. The bent metal of his armor, and crown. His feet are a bloody mess. Kaiba sees it. He grimaces at the mess he is.

Atem flinches when Jounouchi's fancy sneakers come beside him too fast. Kaiba's eyes seem to catalogue that, too. But Atem doesn't mind. Kaiba has become strangely familiar. This almost-family of Atem's. This somewhat friend. This echo of his cousin, lingering in time.

Jounouchi's, and Yuugi's hands appear before Atem. The movement blurs before his eyes. A soft hand, calloses only from arcade controls. A roughned hand covered entirely in callouses from bitter memories. Atem places his bloodied hands into their warm palms.

They walk through the sands to the borrowed boat. It's hot. The sands whips his face. It works its way into his scabs, and wounds. It rubs in a way that his nerves scream. He is stumbling. The hot sands sift under his bare feet. He is slipping. Sliding. Tripping under his own weight. Weak, and unused to his body returned. The sun chisels into his eyes without mercy, preventing him from seeing anything.

Mostly, he is following the two warm hands he trusts. Sometimes they shift guard. They go from holding his tattered hands, to bracing his arms. At one point, Jou throws his warm arm over Atem's shoulders. But when it's obvious Atem cannot bear the weight along with his own, it shifts. Jou's hand, with his torn, scabbed knuckles, rubs gentle circles along his back. Yuugi's hand loops into his elbow. Like a baby faced gentleman. It only works because they are the same height. Atem shivers, his synapses coming to life under a touvh that isn't horrid. At a human touch. Atem does his best to lean into them without seeming obvious. Or weak. Everyone here seems to understand that Atem would not accept help. Nothing that is a blow to his pride. He would rather scale the pyramids, facing the wrath of ghosts, and gravity, than accept true assistance.

Eventually, they reach the boat. They trudge up the metal ramp, clunking their shoes against it. Atem, without shoes, faces the ordeal of hard metal suctioning itself against his feet. He does his best to endure it. Atem does not show signs of relief of being in the modern miracle of air conditioning. What he does show is gratetiude. How amazing the Ishtars have arranged this whole thing. Really, the whirring of the airconditioners, the buzzing lights are just as bad as gritty sand.

Atem does not say this. After all the Ishtars have been through, to still help them - help Atem - is an enormous action.

They shuffle him to a medic, who quickly dresses his wounds. Atem is glad for modern medicine. Ibuprofen is a blessing. He only woshes iy helped his headache. It only seems to worsen with every rock of the shift. Grows with each whirr of the fans. Every flickering light.

Atem, also, is uncomforted by the pains of his heart. The memories of his past are fresh. Seeing those he cares about disappead from his sight screams in his head. He wonders as each person steps from the room if they will be like Mahaad. Karim. Shada. Shimon. Mana. Even his father, and mother, dying in the night under the care of healers who barred him from the room. Atem takes deep breathes, hiding his almost-hyperventilating as winces as his wounds are dressed. Even Yuugi must leave him, the only person with clothes the right size for Atem's small frame. Atem blinks back moisture from his eyes. He grips the edge of the table, firm under his clamp. Curls his toes so tightly they hurt.

A weight falls over Atem's hand. Atem jumps. He whirls his head around.

It is Jounouchi. He stands next to the bed, looking straight at the wall across from them. Atem can't help, but stare. Why is Jounouchi's rouch callouses clasped over his bandaged palms? Atem looks at Jounouchi's face. But, as usual he can discern nothing. People believe he is good at reading people. At faces, of bluffs. Really, Atem reads people's goals through actions. Their values in what they choose. He can no more read a face than he can hold an expression he doesn't feel. So he just shuts down. Focuses on strategies, on choices.

And Atem van't read this. Jounouchi staying? He is loyal. Steadfastly, crazily so. Atem has done his best to return that as it deserves. But why would he stay when Atem is safe in the hands of modern medicine? The soft slopes of Jounouchi's cheeks reveal nothing. Nothjng but sunburn. He must be tired. Aching. Long eyelashes rest on them, eyes closed. He detects no danger, yet he is here? His auburn hair is a mess. Soft strands askew in tossled waves. Sand hidden in it. Jounouchi hates his hair messed up. Doesn't he want to wash up?

Eyelashes flutter open. Warm hazel eyes flicker over to Atem. Atem shares eye contact with him. If there is an emotion in it, Atem cannot pick it up. There is no tell. No upward or downward twist of the lips. Atem looks into Jounouchi's eyes. Yet Atem feels he is struvk to the core. What is going through Jounouchi's head? Jounouchi's hand tightens upon Atem's. He slowly raises his other hand.

It's a thumbs up.

Atem raises his lips the best he can. The smile he was showed by his tutors. A small, polite, but contained smile. Atem doesn't think he succeeds. His body feels foreign. Unfamiliar. His mouth does not want to listen.

Jounouchi smiles back anyway.


End file.
